Every stroke tickles my G-spot. Any second now and I could come again.
“Harder!” I cry. Roger moves faster, harder. Wrapping an arm around my upper body, he pulls me upward in a swift motion. Both our bodies upright, our rhythm doesn’t slow, not even for a second. Roger’s hands urgently caress the front of my body, playing with my nipples and my clit while I ride his cock. I throw my head back onto his shoulder and moan like a woman possessed.
I am possessed. By one amazing cock.
Now Roger pushes my body forward. My upper body goes all the way down so that my breasts press against the mattress.
Roger grunts and pushes himself deep inside me, so deep I shudder. “Pound my pussy!” I yell. And Roger pounds me so hard, the sound of our bodies colliding fills the air like staccato clapping. “Yes, Roger.
Yes
. Harder!” I start to whimper. “Harder, baby. Make me co-o-ome!”
I explode. My orgasm spirals out from my pussy, through my stomach and to my breasts, and down my legs to my toes. I grip the bedspread as my body convulses over and over again.
Roger’s groans getting wilder, he squeezes my ass and spreads my cheeks wide. “Fuck, I’m coming!” he exclaims, and pushes his cock deep inside me. He holds it there, his penis jerking as his semen flows.
I fall completely forward onto the bed, and Roger lies next to me. I’m aware once again of the soft music playing. Mariah Carey serenades the two of us as we lie side by side, breathing heavily.
Roger angles his head to look at me and flashes me a soft smile. I return the smile and reach for his hand.
“So,” he begins. “How was that for an appetizer?”
“With that kind of appetizer, a girl doesn’t need the meal!”
“That mean I ain’t gonna see ya tonight?” Before I can answer, Roger plays with my nipple, then takes it into his mouth. He sucks the taut peak until I’m moaning again.
“You know I want to see you, baby,” I tell him as he continues to suck my nipple. “The moment I get off work.” He runs the pad of his thumb over my clitoris, and I start to writhe. “Please, Roger. No more.”
His hand stills. He lifts his head. “Had enough?”
“Trust me, I’d love nothing more than to play hookey and stay here all day. But I have to get to work—”
Roger’s abrupt kiss silences me.
I tear my lips away to finish my point. “And if we fuck any more right now, I don’t think I’ll be able to walk. Seriously. Roger, you put a hurtin’ on my pussy!”
He howls at that.
“All right,” he whispers in my ear after a moment. “I can wait till later. ’Cuz I got
all
night. And I hope you do, too.”
“Ooh, I love how that sounds.”
“And you’re gonna love how it feels, too.”
Of that I have no doubt.
Samera
A
tongue is traveling up my thigh. A hot tongue that makes my body tremble.
“Mmm,” I moan. “Oooh, baby.”
The tongue makes its way to my vagina and swirls around and around my clitoris. I arch my back and moan, deep and throaty.
“I love it when you wake up horny.”
The words are like nails on a chalkboard, jarring me from my pleasure. My eyes pop open. And when I see Reed, I’m momentarily confused. Then I realize that I was dreaming.
The man in my dream had dark hair, dark skin and a Spanish accent.
Damn, I was dreaming about Miguel.
My fingers are on my pussy, and Reed’s hand is on top of mine.
“Looks like someone was having a very nice dream,” he says.
I quickly scoot backward, and move my hand, and thus his, off my body. Then I glance away.
“What’s the matter?” Reed asks. “What—you embarrassed because I caught you masturbating?”
“I guess a little.” Which is a big, fat lie.
“We’ve been a lot kinkier than that, babe.” Reed strokes my leg, and I don’t think. I simply react, moving my leg out of his reach.
Now he raises an eyebrow. “Something bothering you, babe?” But he asks the question in a suspicious way, not a sincerely concerned way.
“My head.” Another lie. “I just felt this splitting pain.” I massage my temple to prove my point. “I really have to stop drinking tequila.”
Reed looks at me doubtfully. “You were just fingering your pussy. It didn’t look like you were in any pain.”
“In my dream, no. Too bad I woke up,” I joke.
“Hmm.”
Reed stares at me to the point where I’m uncomfortable. “What?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” His gaze is pointed, unwavering. “Every time I touch you lately, I’m sensing some resistance.”
I shrug. “There’s a lot going on right now, Reed. Can you blame me for not being in the mood for sex? Someone broke into my apartment.
My apartment.
I’m in hiding, for God’s sake. My whole life is one big mess right now.”
“And me? I’m part of that mess? That’s what you think?”
“Why are you saying that? Why are you starting a fight with me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you sound really friggin’ ungrateful. You’re the one who fucked that guy in Vegas. You’ve brought some psycho maniac into your life and
my
life. I’m trying to keep your ass safe, and all you do is sit around and bitch and complain.”
“Reed—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll shut the fuck up.” He leaps off the bed, cursing under his breath.
I sit, stupefied, wondering what the hell his problem is. And more so, wondering why I’m here.
Reed slips his boxers on, then cutoff jeans and a muscle T-shirt. I know he’s waiting for me to tell him that I
do
appreciate what he’s doing for me. But for the life of me, I can’t bring myself to.
The thought going through my brain is that I’m in the middle of a mess I don’t want to be in. I have no clue what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. I’m hiding from some freak who wants to hurt me. And I’m living with a guy I don’t love anymore because I’m hoping he’ll protect me, when what I really need to do is figure out a way to protect myself.
Reed storms out of the room.
“I don’t love you anymore, Reed,” I whisper. And then the reality of my words comes crashing down on my shoulders. I really don’t love him anymore. And they’re not words spoken in anger. It’s simply a truth I’ve finally come to accept.
There’s no changing my mind tomorrow. There’s no changing my mind when he starts acting sweet again. I’m over him.
Completely.
The truth is, I have been for a while now. The man in my heart is the man I haven’t been able to forget, even after returning to America.
Miguel.
Nearly two months have passed since I left him in Costa Rica, and I still think of him, still dream of him, still wonder how he is. Wonder if he’s found some other woman to love. And if he has, if that woman’s pretty and nice and worthy of him.
And if they click sexually the way he and I did.
The bedroom door flies open, and I reel backward on the bed. Reed steps into the room and tosses the cordless phone onto the mattress beside me.
“The phone’s for you,” he tells me.
I swallow. Take a deep breath. “Who is it?”
“Your sister.”
“You heading out?” I ask.
“Do you care?”
I don’t bother to answer, because I’m not interested in round two with Reed. Instead I lift the phone and place it at my ear.
“Annie,” I say tentatively.
“Is everything all right over there?”
“Sure, why?”
“Reed sounded
very
pissed. Are you two arguing?”
“I don’t feel like talking about Reed.”
“Okay,” Annelise says. “Then I’ll tell you what Lishelle found out.”
Hope swells inside me. “She found Peter?”
“Yes. And no.”
I frown. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that yes, she tracked him down. His name is Peter Bartlett, thirty-five years old. Works as a high school phys-ed teacher.”
“A
teacher?
” I couldn’t be more shocked. I don’t expect someone entrusted to guide and protect young people to be such a perverted snake.
“Yeah. And he’s nowhere near Atlanta. In fact, he’s not even in the state of Georgia.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Personally, I still believe he’s the one behind the threats. The investigator was able to find out that he’s had quite the interesting past—including assaulting some guy in a bar.”
“And he’s a
teacher?
”
“I don’t know why the board would keep him on, but they did.”
“Good grief.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. The only thing is, he hasn’t been in Atlanta since he left Las Vegas. He’s been in Chicago. Actually, in Evanston, a Chicago suburb.”
“But if he hasn’t been here—”
“Then he hired someone to harass us. At least that’s what I think, and Lishelle agrees.”
“Harass, right.” I snort. Last night, after I had officially temporarily moved into Reed’s place, I called my sister to tell her about the fake head in my apartment, and how I might have nightmares about it for weeks. “Terrify is more like it.”
“Since he hasn’t physically been here, we can’t prove anything. But like I said, I’m sure he hired some thug to do his dirty work.”
“Great. So we’re still not safe. Or me—if I’m the one he’s really after.”
“For what it’s worth, Lishelle called him. And she tore into him something good. Told him to stay the hell away from us, and that if he harassed us again, he’d be up on charges.”
“And what did he say?” I ask anxiously.
“That he had no clue what she was talking about. But what else is he gonna say? ‘Oh, okay. I’ll stop making your life hell. Sorry.’ I don’t think so.”
I drag a hand over my face. “This whole thing is wearing me out, Annie. I feel so damn trapped. I’ve had to move in with Reed, and now I’m starting to question that decision.” I sigh. “Do you think Dominic would let me stay with you guys? Just for a little while? Until I find my own place? I’d ask Maxine, but she lives with her loser boyfriend—”
“You don’t have to give me a hard sell. Of course you can stay here if you need to. There’s not a lot of space, but I don’t think Dominic would mind.”
“Just in case,” I tell her. “Who knows…maybe things will still work out for Reed and me.”
There’s a moment of quiet. Then Annelise says, “I could say ‘but,’ because I sense a ‘but,’ but I won’t.”
I sigh, then blurt out, “But I’m in love with Miguel.”
“What?”
“Clearly, nothing I do in my life can be easy. I have to choose the hardest path, every single—”
“You’re in love with Miguel?” Gone is Annelise’s shock, replaced by a wistful tone.
“I know. Talk about complicated. Miguel was supposed to be a fling. But just this morning I finally realized that he’s much more than that.”
“Sammy…”
“And I’ve totally fucked my life up. I never should have left him in Costa Rica. He was the one guy in my life who was really decent to me, treated me with respect, believed in me. And I left him. You don’t leave a guy like that. What is wrong with me?”
“Sweetie, there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not a crime to be confused.”
“You say that because you’re my sister.”
“I say it because it’s true. Look at how long I stayed with Charles? Basically, I had to be hit over the head with a hammer for me to see the light.”
“Maybe it’s in the Peyton genes.” I sigh. “Oh, Annie. What do I do?”
“First and foremost, if you don’t want to stay with Reed anymore, leave.”
“But he’s been so good to me.”
“And for that, you buy him a nice shirt at Macy’s. You don’t fuck him.”
I close my eyes and nod. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I am right.”
“And you’ve never liked Reed.”
“I can’t deny that, no. But listen, I need to talk to you about something else.”
“What?”
“Now hear me out completely.” There’s a brief pause, then my sister says, “I think you should go to the police.” “No way. Are you kidding me? How can I go to the police?”
“I know you’re afraid, but here’s the thing. You’re
innocent
. Right now, it looks like you’re running. And you have no reason to run, no reason to hide. If you go to them, tell them what you know, it’ll be over and done with.”
“Unless they want to charge me for murder.”
“I don’t think it’ll be long before the police call me, anyway. The hotel has probably given them guest records.”
“That still won’t tie me to Rusty. How many people visit Vegas every day? Anyone could have killed him.”
“I agree. But while Peter might have some sick revenge plan up his sleeve, I think it’s wise to go to the police, tell them you’d been with Rusty before his murder, and what happened with him and Peter. That way they can open a file for this harassment. Lishelle’s scared Peter off for now, but what if he shows up in six months?”
“That’s why I’m gonna move.”
“And you’ll always be running.”
“I’m not running. I didn’t do anything.”
“All right.” Annelise sighs, the fight going out of her. “That’s my suggestion, and do with it what you will.”
“Yeah.”
“And if you want to come over to talk—”
“Whatever.”
“You’re angry.”
“No, I’m stressed as hell. Look, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
I hear Annelise sigh again. “Okay.”
I click the cordless phone off. If only I could click my problems away as easily.